


Convergence

by IShouldBe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Marriage Law Challenge, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-08 07:57:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4296828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShouldBe/pseuds/IShouldBe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He scratched at the back of his neck. "I mean, you didn't even like <i>kissing</i>."</p><p><i>I didn't like kissing</i> you. But the words burned unsaid on her tongue. "It's fine, Ron." Hermione patted the tome in her lap. "And I'll be here with my book. As expected."</p><p>SS/HG HEA...Always :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

**Convergence**

This fell out of my fingers as I work my way back into writing fanfic... I know, I have three unfinished fics. I'm a very naughty writer ;)

And I absolutely don't care how fluffy this is. Too many of the fics I've read recently have been...horrible to my OTP. I should stay away, but they keep finding me... *sigh* So I want fluff. Oodles of it. Sue me.

But don't sue me about who owns Severus Snape et al. Just saying...

* * *

The door to the sitting room of 12 Grimmauld Place closed with a soft click. Hermione looked up from her book to find Ron standing there his fingers tapping the doorknob, shoulders hunched and his face mottled red.

Hermione's stomach turned over. The  _Daily Prophet_  had broken the news that morning. A marriage law, ratified by the Wizengamot, with some foolish idea to bind couples and secure magic in a diminishing magical population. It was a hold over from a medieval practice -it was in her book- and she'd just come to the interesting part about the convergence of powers. Now there was Ron.

"Morning, Mione." He gave her a half wave.

Not the best start and she'd said, repeatedly, that she really did dislike that shortening of her name. But nothing seemed to penetrate his skull. Unless it was quidditch. Or food. Still...he was no doubt here to propose -probably shoved into the room by his mother- so she would be polite.

A murmured spell saved her place in the dusty tome and she carefully closed it. "The kitchen a bit much?"

He huffed a laugh and padded across the room, all gangly man-boy. "Too right. Every inch of the table is covered with every name in the Order...and a few more. Mum has some spell-"

" _Pura Concursum._ " Hermione twitched a smile and tapped her book. "It's in here."

Ron's lips pulled up, but no humour reached his eyes. "Yeah. That." He shrugged. "Anyway, I asked her to wave her wand over a name for me and it flared gold. Or Mum said it was gold. Looked sort of silver to me."

Hermione held back a frown. She'd flicked her wand over a number of names in the past hour. Only one had flared anything other than dull bronze for her and that wash of gold wasn't Ronald Weasley. Had she been right not to rely -she didn't want to admit  _trust_ \- Mrs Weasley to work in  _her_  best interests? She did have a handful of single sons, after all.

"Oh, don't worry, Mione, it's not you!" Another of Ron's half laughs grated across her nerves. "Because we didn't do well together, did we? I mean, I like physical...stuff and well you..." He waved his hand to her book, held now in tightened fingers. "We weren't compatible at all." He leant forward, his voice dropping to a confiding whisper. "You don't really like that sort of thing, do you, Mione?"

Something much have shown in her gaze, a slice of the mortified anger that was twisting her gut, perhaps? Because he sat back and held up his hands. "I mean that's fine. You're happiest with a book. You need someone happy to sit and read and not do much else. Percy? Or Snape maybe?" His laughter increased. "Though come to think of it, I didn't see his name on the table. Must've already be sorted, lucky git."

Hermione stared at him. Severus Snape wasn't on the list? But she'd heard Mr Weasley tell his wife to send out the owl, asking for his participation in the Great Marriage Match, as George declared it. Her heart thudded. Had he refused? Was he waiting on the Ministry to make a decision of last resort?

She flicked a glance at the ashes in the fireplace, where she'd incendio'd the names she'd written down. Or was it more of Mrs Weasley's manipulations?

"Who have you decided on, Ron?"

She had to get him out of the room so she could slip away.

"Oh, a Hufflepuff, Gillian Osset. We met up again last month."

When Ron was supposed to be going out with her. Though after the end of the war, with everything being so hectic, they'd not grabbed more than a few kisses. And the groping. How could she forget the  _groping_?

Hermione stopped her mouth from thinning. From what she remembered of the girl, Gillian was mad for wizard chess. At least they would have that in common. And a Hufflepuff had the patience to put up with Ron's moods. Yes, Gillian was a good match for him.

"That's great. You can play chess together."

His face flushed and he wouldn't meet her gaze. So he'd done with Gillian everything he demanded from  _her_. "Yeah. I suppose." He was on his feet and halfway to the door. "Mum'll be going through your suitors this afternoon, she said." He stopped at the door. "Look, Mione, I hope you didn't think it'd be me and you. Mum said I should tell you I'd chosen someone. Someone else." He scratched at the back of his neck. "I mean, you didn't even like  _kissing_."

_I didn't like kissing_ you _._  But the words burned unsaid on her tongue. "It's fine, Ron." Hermione patted the tome in her lap. "And I'll be here with my book. As expected."

His face mottled further, then he was gone from the room.

Hermione slumped back. Git. But she couldn't dwell on what an unfeeling idiot Ronald Weasley was. She had a plan to set in motion.

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Hermione stood at the arched doorway of an early Victorian mansion, set back from a quiet road in Harrogate. The wards around the house proper pinged against her skin. The secondary wards, that pushed up from the high, garden walls, had simply warned the owner of someone without evil intentions approaching his house. The war might've been over for four months -and all Death Eaters dead or imprisoned- but Severus Snape was still taking no chances.

She screwed down her courage and pressed the doorbell. The dulled chimes echoed in the hall beyond. Hermione dug her fingertips into her palm. She was doing the right thing. She was.

The door creaked and Hermione blinked. Her gaze dropped and she stared into the luminous eyes of a little house elf. She was dressed in a neat, white pillowcase that reached below her knees and some form of crest was embroidered under her right shoulder.

"How would Sumi be helping you today, Miss?"

"Hello, Sumi." She gave the little creature a quick smile, surprised that Professor Snape would have a house-elf. Someone bound to him, as he'd been bound to Voldemort and Dumbledore. "Is Professor Snape at home?"

Sumi waved her spindly hand into the bright, cream hallway. "If Miss would wait just beyond the vestibule, I will see if the Master is wanting visitors."

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, crossing the beautifully tiled floor and onto the York stone of the hall. Everything was immaculate, with little hints of Victorian excess in the plasterwork. She was aware he'd moved from Manchester -obviously- but she'd never imagined the elegant luxury of his home.

"A Prince legacy."

Hermione stepped back, flushed and guilty, from staring at a rich Dales landscape, complete with quietly baa-ing, white, fluffy sheep. "The house, Professor? It's beautiful."

Severus Snape stood at the end of the hallway, at the bottom of a wide staircase. Light from above gilded him. His black hair, silky and neat, shone and the warm light picked out the hint of a smile on his sure lips. He was dressed casually, for him, in a white shirt and black trousers. Both were an expensive cut and weave. He looked... Hermione ignored the patter of her heart. He looked effortlessly elegant, fitting the understated luxury of his house.

"I am the last Prince heir. With my name cleared, I can finally lay claim to my rightful inheritance." The hint of a smile deepened. "And I am no longer your professor, Miss Granger."

"Then I am no longer Miss Granger." She pressed her lips together and fought the heat of a blush. She clutched her bag before her. "I..." She pulled in a breath and willed her courage to see her through this. "Have you read this morning's  _Prophet_?"

"I have." He waved her towards the open door to her right. The sliver of a drawing room was just visible, with thick pale carpets and the corner of a richly upholstered couch. "It's probably best that we're seated for this discussion."

"This is all..."

Hermione stepped into a beautiful drawing room with walls of dove grey and complimented by an ornate, marble fireplace. The opposite wall was filled with walnut bookcases, glass protecting ancient tomes from the light shafting in through the wide bay window. It wasn't a style she'd associate with Severus Snape. Not that she knew him that well to judge, but...

And shit, she hated that she was coming over all Elizabeth Bennett. She risked a glance at Severus and imagined his shirt wet-

"This is all Sumi's work." His dark eyes shone and warmth suffused her cheeks again. He was a legilimens. A brilliant one. And she was putting him into her own wet shirt daydream.

She looked to the bookcases, willing her focus there and not to the tall man seeming to dominate the room and her thoughts.

"Sumi's been alone here for years and she needed a hobby. This is her home...Hermione. It belongs to her as much as me."

"She has talent."

"She does."

There was a hint of pride in his voice and it made her smile. Severus Snape willingly offering praise? Who was he now? Was the true man out from under the shadow of a pair of megalomaniacs?

Severus bid her sit on one of the dark velvet couches, whilst he took his place on the couch opposite. He was all easy elegance and Hermione felt her gaucheness. Ron was right. She was frumpy. A bookworm. Her fingers curved around her beaded bag, the book from the Black library there, framed under her touch. Magic was on her side. She had to remember that.

"Grimmauld Place is madness this morning as they try to match up the Order."

Severus lifted an eyebrow and something moved in the darkness of his eyes. She'd been right. Mrs Weasley had conveniently forgotten all about him. "Is it?"

"Mrs Weasley is pairing people with  _Pura Concursum._  I found it in my own reading this morning." She pressed her lips together. "I performed it over a variety of names."

"Molly has a number of sons."

With that quiet statement, he acknowledged Hermione's own worry that Mrs Weasley would skew her magic in favour of one of her children. She jerked a nod. "She does. And from my own investigation, not one of them achieved more than a dull bronze. You however..."

She drew parchment and a quill from her bag and wrote his full name with a quick hand. So what if a tremor ran through it? She didn't want to drag things out. If he was to kick her from his home, she wanted it over with. Done. Then she could slink away to lick her wounds.

Hermione murmured the spell, flicked her wand and the letters flared a brilliant gold.

"Surprising. May I?"

He took the quill and parchment and wrote her name. Hermione frowned. How did he know her middle name? A low murmur and the spell ignited the letters. Gold. Bright and sparkling. Hermione's chest bloomed and she breathed through the sudden rush of her pulse and the patter of her heart.

She had to press on. Severus was her best plan for a marriage with any hope of...of happiness. He was a scholar, like her, and whilst she did have an interest in the carnal -though never with Ron! Never again- she could live with a more cerebral arrangement. She could. Still, there was no harm in exploring the issue. "I read that gold is quite rare. An affinity with each other's magic and a compatibility in...other areas."

He dropped the parchment and quill onto the low table that separated them, both of their names still sparking gold. His eyebrow lifted. "Other areas...?"

Severus' velvet-toned voice dipped the innocuous words in every decadence and Hermione's face burned.

For all his status as a war hero, this was  _still_  Severus Snape. Still sardonic and still very much a Slytherin. He would make her admit everything before he committed himself. But Hermione was prepared for that...exposure.

She stared at her ink stained fingers, her nails short and unpolished. Beneath her hands, her faded blue sundress was confortable, but hardly fashion. Shit, she'd rushed out with no thought of making herself slightly more presentable. Yet, this was who she was. For better or for worse. What did she have to lose? Her choice was Percy or the Ministry. Neither held much appeal.

"I am a bookworm." A wry smile touched her mouth and she found his gaze. His endless black eyes revealed...nothing. She wasn't surprised. "The Ministry let me sit my NEWTs in July and I was offered an apprenticeship in the Archives."

"Congratulations." He inclined his head. "A place of infinite knowledge."

Hermione grinned at him, she couldn't help herself. "Isn't it?" Her friends had stared at her, their eyes glazing when she waxed on about the beauty of row after row of books and scrolls. And the scent of them... Magical knowledge practically hummed in the air.

She let out a little breath, her attention fixed on her bag again. She stopped herself from picking at the beads. "I love it, them,  _books_. And I understand that I'm not a...a catch. That I'm not like other witches, who care about ink-stained fingers and fighting their hair on a daily basis."

"Does all your experience come from the youngest male Weasley?"

She looked up. Her shoulders dropped. "And the reaction at the Yule Ball. My Fourth Year. Suddenly I was noticed, for some make-up, a floaty dress and enough Sleak-Eazy to cause an environmental disaster."

A smile lifted his mouth and his eyes warmed. Her heart skittered again.

"I tried your name first." She bit the side of her cheek after that blunt admission.

Severus gaze narrowed and it was unnerving to be the caught -tight- in his focus. "And why was that, Hermione?"

The way he said her name. It slid heat into her belly and flickered such wanton imagines through her thoughts. Against all reason. He would not want her that way. His name had never been connected with any witch or wizard. Besides Harry's mum. And Hermione hardly matched up to  _her_  in looks.

Severus had been an infrequent visitor to Grimmauld Place after the Wizengamot cleared his name in the middle of May. But each time he did appear, she watched him with hungry eyes, something in him calling to her. Even when Ron had sat, holding her hand -and probably thinking about a naked Gillian Osset- Severus Snape had  _her_  attention.

"I thought we'd be compatible."

"Both scholars?"

Hermione jerked a quick nod. "Exactly."

"And...other areas?" His wicked eyebrow lifted. Was he laughing at her. The gauche girl who was stupidly throwing herself at him.

Severus rose, smooth and elegant, a predator and her pulse jumped. Had she ever noticed him at Hogwarts -if his every thought hadn't been dedicated to hiding himself under layers of spite and acres of wool- her concentration would've been shot. He was mesmerising.

She lifted her chin. Her mouth pursed before she bit out, "I don't know. Obviously."

"Let us experiment." He held out his hand, his black gaze fierce with a gleam of dark challenge. "Then we shall see how compatible we  _truly_  are."

 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

"I..."

Hermione's mouth dried. Her heart pounded. What was he suggesting? What did she  _want_  him to suggest?

"A kiss, nothing more, Hermione."

She blinked, dropped her bag to the couch and put her hand in his. And no, that wasn't a twist of disappointment in her belly. For all of her fantasies, she didn't really know this man. He was right to take things at a measured pace.

Severus pulled her to her feet with no effort and didn't release her. She'd never stood so close to him. Merlin's beard, he was  _tall_.

She stared at his buttons, smooth, mother-of-pearl and so strange when she expected to see the line of carved jet that had tormented her dreams. The faint hint of herbs, mingled with cut grass and the familiar warmth of parchment swirled her senses. He...he was her amortentia scent.

His free hand lifted her chin, the gentle touch skittering a shiver across her skin. "Something amusing?"

"Your scent..."

"Jasmine. Fresh indigo ink. The scent of old books. In other words, you." The smile he wore in that moment made her heart miss a beat. His thumb stroked under her bottom lip and her mouth parted. "It seems there may be something to this magic."

She grinned at him and Severus let out a sigh.

"I may have to hex Mr Weasley when next I see him. That he made you doubt yourself. You are a brilliant and beautiful young woman."

Words formed but wouldn't come. She was gaping. Yet more compliments. Oh, she wanted to know this man. The dark, brooding Potions Master drew her, but now, with this layer of elegance and sardonic charm? He was irresistible.

"May I kiss you now, Hermione?" His voice was a low, sensual rumble and drew her gaze to the perfect line of his lips.

"Yes, please," burst out on a breath of air and she was aware of his lips twitching up into another one of his elusive little smiles before his mouth covered hers.

Firm lips, smooth and warm brushed hers and all other thought escaped her mind. Her hands, free of his hold, pressed to the heat of his chest, whilst his fingers, _his_ , threaded through her hair. The dart of his tongue along the seam of her lips forced a gasp of surprise...and the kiss deepened.

Slow, sure, commanding. Her legs were jelly. He tasted of mint and tea, and something else, something delicious and addictive. She almost mewled at the perfection of his kiss, pressing herself against him. Merlin, she needed more. So much more. And then  _that_  kiss changed again, swept around her, hotter, the clash of tongues and lips, nips of teeth, her breath, his, hot and quick.

She clutched at him, losing herself in his touch, in the slide of his hand over her hip to hold him harder against him. And there, the fierce line of an erection ground against her belly-

Severus snapped back, his black eyes shining, his lips wet. He smirked at her, his chest heaving. "You're theory is confirmed, Hermione." His thumb teased across her lips. "Compatible indeed. In fact, any more compatible and we'd be half-naked on that couch and what would Sumi think?"

Hermione giggled and her gaze dropped away, scared to be thought of as a silly little girl.

He pressed a light kiss to her forehead and the gentle gesture twisted around her heart. "None of us have laughed enough these past few years," he murmured. He stepped away from her and his long fingers rubbed over his jaw. "This is...unexpected."

He wasn't denying their...compatibility. She certainly couldn't. Her skin still tingled, the taste of him there on her lips, the ghost of his touch lingering. Wanted. It was almost an awakening. She almost laughed at herself. So much for careful and measured! She willed her gaze up to his, her belly a hot mess of nerves. "Is it unwanted?"

"You're not yet nineteen."

"I will be. In September."

"What of your family. Your  _friends_?"

They met in a half-smile as he couldn't keep the edge of derision from his voice. They had all made his job so much harder down the years. "My family. You know I placed a memory charm on them?" Severus gave her a brief nod. But then, who didn't know? A fully registered Rita Skeeter had spilled the 'heart-rending tale of over-weaning ambition and ultimate loss'. "Their condition is permanent. And they have another child. Another Hermione." She shrugged, fighting the swift rise of an old pain. "Though she isn't showing any signs of magic. A Hermione they can keep."

She drew in a slow, cleansing breath, aware of his watching her. She was grateful that he hadn't offered a sympathetic touch or murmur. Anything, and she'd break...and now wasn't that time. "And my friends? Still there. Still irritating."

His quiet "That is not difficult" broke a smile from her.

"We will grow apart. It's inevitable. Natural. They don't want my interference, but also can't expect me to be there to solve their problems for them."

His laugh was wry. "You cannot always be doing their homework."

Hermione blushed. Had it been that obvious? "We're taking different subjects now." She sat again, feeling strange standing so close to him as she effectively bared her soul. He retook his seat and called for tea. Sumi whipped in with a bone china set and two huge cuts of carrot cake.

Severus frowned at the plates. "She is constantly trying to feed me up."

"You look better for it." And Hermione hid behind her cup, not wanting to see the effect of her compliment.

"Miss Skeeter would have more to say if we married."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She always has more to say. Should've kept her in that jar. Foul little beetle."

"Blackmail, Miss Granger?"

The hint of the Potions Master did something strange and warm to her insides. And played into the wicked little daydreams in which she sometimes indulged. "Necessary, Professor Snape."

His look then was calculating. Was he weighing up the woman she was now, compared to the schoolgirl he'd known? "I am a difficult man, Hermione. Often solitary. Frequently anti-social. I am twice your age and certain things must be just-so for me. Certain rituals that ease my mind."

And the word 'ritual' did not conjure up an ancient stone altar, Severus clothed in black and  _her_  completely naked. Not interested in that sort thing? Ha, Ron Weasley knew nothing! "Such as?"

"I work alone. I think and create more easily that way and I do not like others interfering in my workspace. I have a full laboratory in the cellar of this house. It would remain forbidden to you. Perhaps for years."

Hermione was hit by the soured rush of regret that she wouldn't witness someone as brilliant as Severus Snape experimenting. Her cup froze near her mouth. She did ache for the next best thing. "Could I read your notes or discuss your work with you? Outside of your laboratory?"

Severus pursed his lips and Hermione thought about kissing him again. "That would be a...satisfactory compromise."

She let out a slow breath and smiled. "Good. Thank you."

"I also cannot be spoken to in the morning until my second cup of tea." A hint of humour lightened his words and his gaze flickered to her hands. "Do you feel the urge to take notes, Hermione?"

Merlin, her fingers  _were_  twitching. "No." She barely bit back the word 'sir'.

He looked to the cake, sighed and picked up the plate and its fork. Sumi seemed to know him too well. "We would -will?- have a difficult path to follow. The transition from teacher and pupil to husband and wife with a hard year as our only separation will be fraught with obstacles."

Hermione did have a list in her bag, but she thought better than pulling it out. The words were burnt into her skull, anyway. "The important ones. For me. Would you deny me my apprenticeship?"

Severus stared at her in disbelief, his fork half-way to his mouth. "Why in Merlin's name would I do that? Apprenticing under Master Ashian is a great honour."

A definite win over Ron, who'd simply stared at her and asked why she wanted to sit in a hall full of mouldy old books. "Master Ashian? Never heard of him. And won't you ever get out of needing to waste away in a library, Mione?" he'd whined at her as she'd received her precious offer from the reclusive Master of the Ministry Archives. "Books, books, books." Then he'd stormed out of the kitchen with his broom to play quidditch.

She wondered if that was the day he sought out Gillian Osset.

Hermione smiled and the tight knot in her stomach eased away. "The law is only looking to pair magic. But...we will be married," her face grew hot, "in every sense."

Severus' smile was slow, a hint of devilment lurking in his eyes. "Yes. I believe  _that_  is mandatory."

She wet her dried lips. "Then, really, we must..." His smile distracted her, filled her thoughts with wicked things and the memory of their one and only kiss. "Children." She bit out the word. "It's possible, what with... And I need to know how you would feel." She didn't give him a chance to reply before she blundered into her own opinions. "I would -eventually, not right away- like two. I was an only child, and it was sometimes stifling. And I would like it if we both played a fair role."

Her teeth snapped shut and she looked at him, her heart in her throat.

"That is reasonable."

She blinked, expecting more. Expecting an explosion of how he loathed children, how horrible his own childhood was -another exclusive from the hideous Rita Skeeter- but his calm acceptance threw her.

Severus placed the half-eaten cake on the low table and sank back into his the firm padding of the couch. "I am not an ogre. I have a new life. Money and standing." He waved this long hand around the room. "This frankly medieval law -whilst odious to others- suits me well. My past has denied me a family. I would like one." His short smile was dark, more like the man she knew. "The best revenge is living well, Hermione."

He lifted an eyebrow. "I, of course, would not object to more than two."

Hermione stared at him. She blinked. Twice. "You wouldn't?"

"I do have a large home to fill."

He was teasing her. Git. Still, she liked his dry, dark humour. It was unexpected. She huffed at him. "You're a wicked man."

Severus inclined his head. "Severus Snape, at your service."

"Then you agree? To this..." She waved her hand between them, reluctant to say the word 'marriage'. It pushed their conversation into hard reality.

"The  _Pura Concursum_  supports us in terms of our magical synthesis." His dark eyes warmed and Hermione resisted the urge to twitch her skirt over her knees, to hide herself before him. His single, heated glance threatened to strip her bare. It was unnerving. And delicious. "The amortentia suggests a mutual attraction. Proven correct by our little experiment."

"When...when did it change? The scent. I mean it can't always have been..."

He winced, though Hermione wanted to believe it was his pulling at his memories and not her impertinence that forced a frown. "Around 18 July. Four weeks ago. I was asked to prepare twelve vials for the Aurors' office. I became aware of a change then."

Four weeks ago, she had broken up with Ron. Almost to that very date. Magic seemed to be conspiring in their favour. His willingness to answer her questions confused and surprised her. And she told him so.

Severus rubbed his hands together. His voice was quite, thoughtful. "I promised myself, long ago, that if I was fortunate to court a young lady then I would  _try_  to be honest. I've been bound by lies for so many years. It is still...difficult."

He drew in a slow breath and sat forward. "I cannot promise love, Hermione. Not today. This is all so sudden." His gaze dropped to his hands. "But I have always hoped to one day have a wife to love." The confession was little more than a whisper and twisted Hermione's heart. She clamped her fingers to her lips so as not to interrupt him. He looked up, a wry smile tugging at his lips, his gaze flicking over her white-knuckled hand. "I will honour and respect you and your decisions. I will protect you. This, I promise."

Hermione's throat tightened. He was making so much effort, simply for her. She wanted to throw herself at him. She didn't know what to say, so many words bubbled up. And anything she said after that would seem silly, would cheapen his vow. She could only murmur a heart-felt 'thank you'.

Severus stood and Hermione jerked to her feet, her nerves strained. What...? He gave her a short smile. "We should do this properly, don't you think? Sumi."

The little elf cracked into the room, her bright, curious eyes moving from Severus and Hermione and back again. "Sir?"

"The walnut chest in the vault. Please bring it to me."

Sumi blinked, clapped her hands, grinned and popped away.

"Severus-" Hermione began, her thoughts still scattered.

Sumi was back and she offered up a small chest in polished walnut. Her eyes shone. "Is sir...?"

"Yes, please stay, Sumi."

The little elf squeaked and flapped her hands, but then slapped her palm to her mouth, her great eyes contrite.

Opening the chest, Severus drew out a smaller, ebony box. He put the walnut chest on the table and dropped to one knee before Hermione.

She gasped, a sudden surge of shock making her lightheaded. Her legs buckled. "What-?"

Severus creaked open the box, a platinum ring with a shining circle of blue jade at its heart. "Would you do me the great honour of marrying me, Hermione Granger?"

Sumi was squeaking and half-sobbing just over to her left and all words seemed to escape Hermione. Again. Severus seemed to be very good and shutting her up. Completely. She grinned at him, tears blurring her eyes. From the first flare of his name in gold only a few hours before, she'd ached for something like this. No, not this. She could  _never_  have imagined anything such as this...

"Yes!" She pressed taut fingers to her mouth as she'd practically shouted the word at him. She shook her head, trying to pull her thoughts together. "Yes, I would like to marry you. Very much. Thank you."

He slipped the ring on to her left hand, the cool metal warming and resizing to her slim finger.

Severus climbed to his feet, and pressed her hand to his lips, dropping a light kiss on the beautiful ring. "Blue jade. A stone for brides coming into the family. An aide to infinite patience with Prince men."

Sumi had a vast, lace-edged handkerchief and was openly bawling into it.

Hermione wiped at her eyes, smiling as she found more tears. "You're sure?"

"That you'll need infinite patience? Undoubtedly."

She couldn't stop it, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his chest and fisting his shirt in her hands. He pressed his chin to her hair as his own arms settled around her. "It will be awkward and strange in the beginning," he murmured, his voice a delicious rumble that warmed her and pattered her heart. "And others won't understand, will think I coerced you."

Hermione growled and he chuckled. "Let them say that to me."

"They might, Hermione. You have to be prepared. No offensive magic. I don't want to visit my new wife in Azkaban."

"Spoilsport."

She snuggled against him, enjoying his hold. No one held her, not any more...and she could get used to Severus' touch all too easily. It surprised her how much she wanted it. To be able to touch him when the mood struck her. To stroke his jaw in passing, kiss him, run her fingers through his hair. Like a moonstruck little girl. She winced.

"Hermione?" He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she sucked in a nervous breath. "I am not the man who terrorised you for six years. He was a necessary mask. A necessary evil. Well, I am not  _wholly_  him." The stress on that word broke a short laugh from her. "We will learn about each other. And that begins with honesty."

Hermione shoved down her nerves. "I want to be...affectionate."

"Oh my lovely girl." He cupped her face and dropped the sweetest of kisses to her mouth. His eyes shone with wickedness. "I would not deny you any touch you desire."

"Your voice should be illegal."

She blushed at his laughter, but his lips brushed her ear and his low, heated whisper ran gooseflesh over her skin. "When I have you naked and under me, I will tell you such things, my soon-to-be wife. How I will have you, in every bed and in every room. Where I will lick and kiss. Where I will taste. How I will fuck you until you scream my name." He paused and Hermione almost swayed. "Would you like that?"

Her heart beat out of her chest, her breath short and the ache between her legs a deep throb. All from his few words, his promises, spoken in  _that_  voice. "Yes," she wet her lips and swallowed, "yes, please."

He stepped back and settled in the cool elegance that he wore so easily. Hermione envied his skill. She was completely rattled and undone by him. "Do you object to a short ceremony at the Ministry?"

A quick surge of relief did find her then. Something simple and out of the public eye. Marvellous. "I'd prefer it."

"Sumi?"

The elf sat in a puddle of damp material on the carpet and dabbed at her runny nose. "I am so happy for Master...and the new Mistress." She grinned at Hermione. "A family. Sumi's own  _family_..." More tears leaked and she buried her little face in a clean patch of the handkerchief. Several more sobs broke from her.

"Sumi would you help Hermione get ready?"

The elf's head popped above the swathe of material, her ears pricked. "Oh, Sumi could love, more than anything, to help." She was on her feet, had grabbed Hermione's hand and was pulling her towards the door.

"I..." Hermione looked back helplessly to Severus.

"Trust her."

And with it, she was trusting him too. Which she did, with everything. Including her life. She gave him a small smile. And at some point soon, this Severus Snape was sure to have her heart. She hoped one day, she would have his.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

And without further ado, I'm getting them married today...

* * *

The atrium of the Ministry on a Monday morning. A hot and overcrowded level of hell.

Hermione winced at the jostle and push of so many people, no doubt exacerbated by that morning's news. Everyone was caught in the scramble to find the best partner in a quickly diminishing number. She tightened her grip on Severus' coat sleeve. She'd made the greatest catch in a place no one had thought to look. She smirked to herself. Brightest witch of her age...

"When does your apprenticeship begin?"

Hermione glanced up at Severus. He was still the forbidding Potions Master...but there was something else now. Something in his dark gaze. A quirk of humour. She liked it. "1 September. I'll have to advise Master Ashian of my change of status."

They stopped before the bank of lifts, lanes of people streaming in and out and past. The air filled with raucous laughter and mutterings, the scents that wafted around her from sweeping robes as varied —and as disturbing— as a potions cupboard. Her stomach twisted, but not over the rush of unwanted sounds and odours.

She'd missed this question before, distracted by a proposing Severus and an over-eager elf. "My name, Severus," she murmured, casting a discreet _muffliato_  around them. He raised an eyebrow at the spell and she winced. It still wasn't a widely used charm. "I'd always planned to keep my own last name."

His lips parted and she knew –she knew— he planned to say something snide, something cutting…but it never came. Instead, he leaned in, and with her hair swept up by Sumi's clever magic, her ear was dangerously exposed. His breath heated her skin and she shivered, fighting the fall of her eyelids. The simplest of touches fired through her blood. He was right. Magic knew everything.

"Do you mean I will not have the undoubted pleasure of calling you  _Madam Snape_?"

A throb pulsed hard between her thighs. She wet dried lips. "Only you." The compromise came out on a half-panted breath. "Just you."

"I find that…satisfactory."

Severus drew back and Hermione fought to find her composure again. She had come to him in the hope of finding companionship. Something dry, but safe. Possibly happy. Never something this incendiary. Never.

She glanced up to his smirk. And he had had a sliver of the bastard in him, because he was thoroughly enjoying throwing her off balance.

A lift opened and Severus held the door, allowing Hermione to step into the empty car. Wizards and witches muttered behind him, but froze, their mouths snapping shut as they met the lifted eyebrow of the dreaded Potions Master. He pressed the floor number and the lift doors softly closed, leaving only Severus and herself in the car.

His lips twitched as the lift shot up, and he glanced down at her. "I loathe a crowded lift."

She pushed her brain to find something like normal conversation. "Do you always manage to secure an empty one for yourself?"

"Every time."

Hermione pressed her hand to her mouth to deny laughter and she let her head fall to the hard muscle of his arm. She released a long breath. She could get used to this…banter with him.

"What do you see in me, Hermione?" He held up his free hand. "I am not seeking praise. It's an honest question. I am...me, after all."

"You are...brilliant and powerful." She pressed her lips together, not to search for more, but to find order in the list that assaulted her brain. "Courageous. Loyal. Your voice is sin itself. You are tall and dark and yes, handsome." And she wanted to fling herself at him with every breath she took. But she was not ready for that level of honesty. She wondered if he was ready for it either.

"Poor girl, it's St Mungo's for you."

Hermione glared at him, even as she broke into soft laughter. "That is who I began to see this summer." She smirked at him. "Poor deluded me."

The lift pinged and the doors opened onto a bustling, green-tiled corridor. "Don't worry," Severus murmured against the shell of her ear, sending a quick shiver through her flesh. "I'll marry you before I send you off to the Janus Thickey ward."

He was a true Slytherin. He was exploiting her weakness. She'd had no idea hot breath on her ear had her insides melting, but she suspected his beautiful voice was a contributing factor.

"After you, soon-to-be Madam Snape." Severus waved her forward.

Hermione gave him a mock glare, pulled in her scattered thoughts and wildly hormonal body together and stepped out into the bustling corridor.

The crowd parted before them, whispers following as they cut a path to the new office of Magical Marriages. Beyond an ordinary door, a great hall stretched filled with people. The space was brightly lit from myriad ceiling candles and windows looked out to various scenes across London. Between each window was a bank of solid wooden desks, already tired looking Ministry workers ploughing through that morning's intake.

She and Severus stood in a short queue, before a stooped wizard waved them to Marriage Desk Seventeen.

"We can do this another way," Severus murmured as they crossed the hall to a gaunt wizard with a red pointed hat and matching robes. "This is hardly fitting."

"That we are married is all that matters." She took his hand and squeezed it. "By the way, as a wedding breakfast, Sumi has promised you enough cake to choke a horse."

His soft laughter warmed through her. She liked this. An ease she'd not thought possible was wending its way between them. It was all because he was allowing it. Being this new, honest version of himself. Hermione heartily approved.

Severus pulled out her seat and waited for her to take it, before seating himself.

The Marriage Wizard narrowed his eyes and looked between them. He pulled out a sheaf of magical parchment and dipped his quill into a pot of golden binding ink. "My name is Archibald Clayton, and you are?" He looked to Hermione. "Full name please." When she gave it, it flowed from his quill in ornate curves. "And you?" Clayton's mouth had thinned and Hermione threaded her fingers through Severus' as her soon-to-be husband drawled his answer.

"Are you here by coercion?"

Clayton looked hard at her and she returned his glare. She wanted to rip into him about the Marriage Law being very much an act of coercion, but she didn't. Instead, she bit out, "No," and continued to glare.

"I am not being coerced either," Severus said, a dark smile touching his mouth. "Before you ask."

Clayton coughed and golden writing flowed across the parchment, declaring their free will. He frowned as he read the magically generated words, his lips moving to confirm them in his mind. He looked up. "An informal binding is already in place?" His long, thick-knuckled finger drew a circle around a section on the parchment. Hermione strained to read it.

"The  _Pura Concursum_? Yes. We both performed it." She lifted an eyebrow and wondered how much she looked like Severus in that moment, as Clayton's gaze moved from her to Severus and back again. "What do you wish to know?"

"It's a golden binding."

Severus huffed a breath and the wizard jumped. His hat fell to his shoulder and stuck there. He didn't seem to notice. "Your point?"

"But the wealth of magic. The purity of the souls..." He waved his fingers towards Severus. "I mean. You're...you?"

Hermione was on her feet. Every inch of her bristled. Sumi's careful upsweeping of her wild hair threatened to fall as magic sparked along straightened strands. "I want to see your supervisor.  _Right now_." The last two words came out on a growl.

Clayton blanched and Severus sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, his expression calm. But his eyes were bright and just that little bit wicked. He wasn't trying to cow her, or obviously found himself embarrassed by her demand. He was accepting her defence of him. Merlin, it felt  _good_.

"Well?"

Her voice rose further and more than one of the new couples turned to look at their desk. Clayton blanched. He crouched in his chair, hunching over the desk and glistening marriage parchment, his gaze casting about. "Please sit, Miss Granger."

She remained standing and cupped her hand around her ear. "And I have yet to hear an apology to the  _war hero_  you just insulted."

"I was merely—"

"You're trying to  _defend_  your insult?" Her mouth thinned. "I will not have you marry us. Bring out your supervisor." She sat primly in her hard chair, fixed the full, cream skirt of her transfigured sundress and glared at the flustered wizard.

In one fluid movement, Clayton stood and shot away into the depths of the hall.

Hermione let out a slow breath and closed her eyes.  _Fuck_. Too much? They were supposed to slip in, get married and be out with no fuss...but she'd caused a scene. Severus hadn't  _seemed_  embarrassed, but he'd attacked the woman he loved after she'd defended him. True, he'd been sixteen...but still...

Severus' breath stirred her ear and she squeaked. Would this be the stiletto sharp point of his anger?

"You were magnificent." The shock of his words stunned her. "Thank you."

Her face warmed and an embarrassed smile curved her lips. She risked a glance at him. "Really?"

Severus winced and his hand smoothed over his hair. He appeared stuck in a moment of decision before he flicked a  _muffliato_  around their chairs. Still, he leaned in and his voice was low. "Both of our histories have been put on show for the whole of the wizarding world. The price of victory." He shook his head. "You are aware, no doubt, of my most infamous  _over reaction_  to a girl defending me?"

Hermione nodded, not wanting to ask questions concerning Lily Evans. It was his right to tell, not hers to pry.

"I was a boy. Your best friends are boys. Teenage boys,  _infatuated_  teenage boys, are the worst kind of idiots."

"She still should've forgiven you."

Hermione pressed her lips together. That had  _always_  bothered her. The perfect and lovely and  _perfect_  Lily Evans couldn't forgive a friend -possibly a _best_  friend- for a moment's angered slip in a nightmare situation? No, the  _perfect_  Lily Evans was not so perfect.

"That's not for me to say." He glanced over to the half-shadows of the hall and his eyes narrowed on Clayton as he stood before one of the windows. His arms waved wildly. His hat hung on by sheer force of will. "But I've come to...appreciate those who would defend me. It's rare. And again, thank you."

Her chest bloomed and she wanted to hug him. Hard. In that moment, she was very happy Lily Evans had been a complete cow concerning her friend. "As you promised to protect me, I will always defend you."

He stroked her cheek, playing a light line to her lips. "I think it would be frowned upon for me to ravish you on this desk."

She blushed, but Severus was allowing her to be herself. So she was. "I don't think it would look good to have my marriage lines written across my backside, no."

Severus' bark of laughter sparked her own and with a flick of his wand, he  _finite_ 'd the spell shrouding them.

"I'm glad to see you're in more relaxed spirits, Miss Granger." Clayton simpered at her and was met with another glare. His attempt at a smile fell away. "This is my supervisor, Annabel Brears."

Hermione glanced to Severus –surely it was his turn to wither an official— and he fixed his attention on the small, bird-bright woman. His voice was smooth and dark and simply oozed authority. "You may precede with the ceremony, Madam Brears."

Hermione held down a fierce, satisfied smile. Being in league with this Severus Snape was  _fun_.

"I'm not here to—"

Severus waved her into her seat and she was sitting before her brain quite realised what her body had done. He looked to Clayton. "Bring Madam Brears tea."

Clayton stared.

"Now." That sure, low growl had the skinny wizard whipping away. Severus focused on Brears and Hermione was too aware of how that razor-like attention cut hard and close. "I believe we had already discussed the golden binding Miss Granger and I share. What follows?"

The quill was in Brears' hand. "I..." She blinked, and looked to the parchment. "Golden, yes." Her dark eyes darted over them, but she wisely made no comment. "Do...Do you both declare that you are free to marry? And that you are aware this Ministry binding invokes a wizarding contract? This cannot be broken. You are to marry for life."

Hermione knew this. Was prepared for it, she thought. Though her belly twisted into a knot at the possible duration of their binding. They were both powerful with their magic. That promised a good age. She could see in her hundred and fiftieth birthday with this wizard...

Severus lifted an eyebrow and his mouth quirked upwards, something wry in his eyes. Waiting for her to come to her sense... But Severus Snape...was brilliant. Sarcastic. Darkly sexual. Heat suffused her. Great Merlin, her life with him would never be dull. She laced her fingers through his and held his gaze. "Fine by me."

He huffed a soft laugh and nodded to the official.

Getting their assent, and with Brears' wide-eyed gaze jerking to Hermione a little too often, the witch signed the parchment. She turned it on the table and offered the white quill to Hermione. She signed without hesitation. Severus followed.

Magic flared, sealing the contract. The sheaf rolled tight, a sliver of golden ribbon wrapping around its centre, before it vanished in a faint puff of hickory smoke. Warmth wrapped around Hermione's ring finger and a thin band of white-gold shone beneath her betrothal ring. The same band had appeared on Severus' left hand.

"Thank you for your time." Severus stood up and drew out Hermione's chair. He looked to the returning Clayton, balancing a tea tray. His smile was dark. "Enjoy your tea."

Hermione slipped her arm thought his, her left arm, so she could stare at her rings. "I got to be bossy and shout. You got to be authoritative and scare them half to death..." She grinned up at him. "Best wedding ceremony ever."

His mouth twitched and his dark eyes held her, wicked and bright. "I'm inclined to agree."


	5. Chapter 5

So...let's start the consummation :D. This'll be in 2 parts. It'll be a naughtier M tomorrow. Yes, I'm being evil and making you wait...

* * *

Sumi stood waiting in the large, brightly lit kitchen with a floating silver serving tray on which sat two flutes of elf-made champagne. Her grin split her small face. "Married." She gave an excited squeak and clapped her hands. "My family!"

Severus offered Hermione her glass and they toasted each other with a clink of crystal.

He lifted an eyebrow. "I was promised cake?"

Sumi's grin slipped into something more like one of her master's smirks. "A heavy stomach, not right for now." She flipped her hands and the tray vanished. "Away with you both."

With a sharp crack, she vanished leaving them alone in the sunlit kitchen.

Hermione's face was hot at the little elf's implication, the heat deepening as Severus took the flute from her suddenly damp hand. He placed the glasses on the low, teak counter and threaded his fingers through hers. His wedding ring pressed to her skin and her heart skipped.

"Come with me, please, Madam Snape." His soft voice caught her senses and for a moment she was almost dizzy.

"You know…" She bit her lip and the brief prick of pain cleared her thoughts. "I'm not experienced, Severus."

He stroked a fingertip over her reddened bottom lip. "My dear wife, when would you have found the time between saving your friends and the world?"

She half-laughed, her throat suddenly tight. She wrinkled her nose. "Others managed."

"Hermione…" He cupped her cheek, her jaw with his large, callused palm. His thumb brushed across her lips, causing them to burn deliciously. Dark eyes held her with sure warmth. "It honestly doesn't matter to me." His gaze dipped to her mouth and a line appeared across his forehead. He was struggling with his need to be honest again. To expose his inner self to her. "My concern is that  _I_  will disappoint  _you_."

Hermione kissed the tip of his thumb and it pushed a smile across his mouth. It was time to admit another secret. "We're overthinking. I want you. I have for a while."

He wet his lips, his touch of nervousness almost endearing. "And if we are confessing…interest, I have to say that my gaze may have strayed to you more than necessary. Since your parting from Mr Weasley, that is." Something sparked in his gaze. " _Whilst_  you were with him. Possibly…"

Her chest lifted. The idea of a properly mutual interest, beyond the vagaries of amortentia and before the law forced them into action, was simply…lovely.

Severus pressed a light kiss to her lips before he stepped away, and towards the open door. "I made you a promise. Every bed and every room." He smirked at her, his endlessly black eyes so very wicked. "And I always keep my promises."

Her belly flip-flopped and she followed him up the softly carpeted stairs. Severus led her into a large bedroom, dominated by a dark wood, four poster bed. Swags of damask hung from each post and the cover of the bed was sprinkled with an arrangement of orange blossom, white rose petals and gardenias.

Severus chuckled. "Sumi is such a romantic." With a sweep of his wand, he collected the flowers, shrank them, and pressed them into a shining crystal sphere. He offered it to her.

"And you're not?" she murmured, turning the softly illuminated sphere with its shining petals and buds, the light scent of the flowers changing as her fingertips touched the crystal. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

He eased it from her fingers and set it on the tall cabinet beside the bed. "Your wand please?" She offered it and it joined his on the cabinet. Her belly tightened. Something about that was so…intimate. He drew her to him, breaking the strange spell weaving through her at the sight of their wands nestled together. "I believe we have more experimentation to pursue."

Hermione's heart pounded. She wanted this. With him. If she was honest with herself, she'd wanted it all summer…but she'd fallen in with the expectation of others and agreed to go out with Ron. She was happy to see sense. "We have. Which theory should be prove this time?"

His fingers played along the shoulder of her transfigured sundress. "That by simply kissing you, I can drive you to orgasm."

His smile was dark and sure…and she so wanted to believe that he could do just that. Her mouth parted, her lips dry. She swallowed. "Yes, that would be something I would like to investigate."

A whispered spell and the buttons at the back of her dress slipped through, the material suddenly loosening around her chest. He winked and that single, so-unexpected gesture broke a gasp from her as slow fingers teased her dress away.

"As a man of many buttons, this is a needed charm."

She breathed through her nervousness. Not even Ron's blundering attempts had achieved anywhere near this level of nakedness. The material pooled around her feet, warm and soft. Her hands twitched wanting to cover the silk fripperies Sumi had insisted upon, too aware, in that moment, of crossing the line from young woman to wife.

A long finger lifted her chin and Severus' sure gaze held her. "You are fierce and compassionate. And so beautiful." He tucked an escaping strand of her hair behind her hair and she curled into his light touch. "It'll be my honour, my pleasure to stand with you as you become a great witch."

Hermione closed her eyes, desperate to find some control before his words toppled her over into sobbing on him, just like Sumi. With this Severus beside her, she felt almost…invincible.

Her courage flared. She traced her fingers down each of the familiar buttons of his frock coat. The forbidden feeling that came with it was delicious. "I think both of us will get a lot from this partnership." Her mouth ticked up at the corner and she looked at him under her lashes. "What would you like, Severus?"

His chest rose on a deepened breath and the look he gave her scorched. "You. On that bed. Now."

With a little smirk, she jumped up on the high bed, the turned-down sheets cool against her skin. Her heart thudded. This was real. This was happening. Not some fevered dream in the still-dingy room marked for her use in Grimmauld Place.

Severus murmured his charm and the buttons on his frock coat parted. He shrugged out of it, dropping it across a nearby chair. His fingers paused in unbuttoning his trousers and he fixed his gaze on her. His mouth curled into a deliciously wicked smile. "Are you adequately prepared for our experiment, Madam Snape?"

Her head was light from the rapid pulse of her blood. Tension strained her flesh. There'd never been such anticipation before. Ron's half-whined, "Come on, Hermione. You can do more than  _that_!" hadn't prepared her for a wizard who played her body through her mind.

"I…"

He freed the first two buttons and tugged his shirt free. Another murmur and the white material slipped from his chest, arms, back and Hermione stared. He was carved from alabaster, lean, but defined and the only thought that ran through her head was that she needed to lick the sharp line of his collarbone. Taste his skin. Kiss him. Everywhere.

She blinked and he stood there in only the smooth blackness of his underwear. His very-much- _tented_  underwear.

Her courage faltered. "Merlin, Severus, that'll never fit!"

His rich laughter wrapped around her and she blushed. "Oh, Hermione, my sweet girl." His amusement died away at her strained silence and he climbed into the bed beside her. The drapes fell in a whisper around the bed. A lamp high above the headboard cast a soft, golden light and dropped its gold into the depth of his eyes.

He propped himself up with his head on his hand, the sheets rumpled over his hip. His very casualness eased the almost panicked thud of her heart. "I will not push you, Hermione. We have a month to consummate our marriage—"

"I'm not waiting a month!"

She slapped her hand to her mouth and shut her eyes, mortified. What was she doing? One minute, she was the outraged maiden, the next, desperate for him. Could she be more obviously gauche?

"Hermione…"

Her name was spoken in a whisper, warm and offering something that made her want to cling to him. She risked one eye and found him with an arm out ready to hold her. She shuffled forward and slipped a nervous arm around his waist.

The first touch of his skin eased through her. Smooth, hot to the touch, with the faded lines of old scars there under her fingertips. She pressed her head to his chest and his hand stroked down her spine. The thin trail of hair drawing a line up his stomach tickled. And his erection, his erection pressed into her belly. Alien…but wanted.

"This is new to you." His voice rumbled against her ear, mixing with the solid thump of his heart. "You want it, but how have you prepared? You're Hermione Granger, bookworm, my little know-it-all," a smile took the sting out of that insult turned endearment, "but no book can truly make you ready. And you have read widely around the subject, haven't you?"

Her laugh was wry, embarrassed. "As you said, I thought I should prepare. It wasn't…" How could she talk about her few unedifying moments with Ron, when Severus, her  _husband_ , held her?

His fingers traced down the hollow of her spine, slow, steady and then up again. Her eyes closed and her breathing eased. It was bliss. "What is your experience? And I won't be offended by anything you share."

"I never did this with him. With…Ron. It was always so  _furtive_. He'd pull me into a cupboard." She shuddered and Severus hummed, his fingertips deepening their stroke until she calmed again. What had she done to deserve him? She smiled against his chest and absently kissed him. His cock twitched against her belly and she blinked. Reluctantly, she pushed her mind back to Ron. "He'd touch me over my clothes. Mainly my…breasts. Oh and lacklustre kissing."

She pressed herself closer. "Everything about it –and him— was rushed and sloppy and wet."

"Have you ever brought yourself to orgasm, Hermione?"

She stilled and almost groaned. All right, how did she admit to this one?

"Hermione…?"

She winced. "Yes."

"And why is this embarrassing you?" His fingers paused against her spine and his cock seemed to push against her, growing harder, lengthening still further. His low, dark voice wound through her flesh. "Did thoughts of  _me_  aid you?"

She nodded against his chest and for a long moment he was silent. Tense. His mouth pressed to her hair and he let out a long breath. "So where would you like us to begin?"

"But, you, this…" She moved against his erection and he hissed. "See?"

He brushed her hair back form her face and held her gaze. "I am not a boy. I will survive. Now..." He lifted his eyebrow and the simple action skittered heat under her skin. Merlin, an eyebrow shouldn't be that…sexual. "We shall we begin  _where_?"

Hermione looked down and let out a slow breath. The taut skin across his collarbone prickled under the brush of air. It pulled a smile from her. "Kissing." After all, when could she refuse an opportunity to learn? She met his dark gaze, her voice growing more sure. "I want you to kiss me, please."

He traced a light fingertip along her bottom lip, before his mouth dipped to hers. "As you wish."

* * *

And I have finished this - for all but the editing it gets when I first copy it across to . So after this chapter, there're another 2 full ones and a teensy epilogue.

 


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

The wait is over. We're going for M...

Hope you enjoy :)

* * *

Severus' lips brushed hers, slow and sure, and she opened her mouth to him, wanting more. In truth, wanting everything. Tasting him as he tasted her. No rush, no grabbing and squeezing. Simply the delicious ease of lips and tongues…and yet it  _was_  different.

His arms, his chest, the increasing tangle of his long legs with hers, the brush of fine hair against her smooth skin was so…so sexual it throbbed through her flesh. But it didn't scare her. She trusted him. He would  _not_  push her.

That thought -his care, his consideration- broke a hot little sigh from her and Severus pulled back. He blinked and belatedly lifted an eyebrow. Dipped in shadow from the soft light above them, his dark eyes were half-lidded, his high cheeks flushed pink and his hair tousled. Hermione groaned. She'd helped to do all of that…

"Hermione…?"

She stroked his jaw, the skin smooth, tracing over the hard angle to the heat of his cheek. She drew a finger along the strong curve of his eyebrow and pressed her lips together, her pulse thudding.  _Merlin.._. She should  _not_  be so turned on by touching his bloody eyebrow. But she was. It was him. His signature. And he was  _allowing_  her to explore him. Her smile was half laughter. "This is right, isn't it? Us. Here. Together."

For a moment, he was silent and the strain of answering was there under her fingers. "Yes." His soft admission warmed through her. "I never," his lips thinned and he let out a slow breath, "I never…allowed myself to believe my interest would be returned."

Hermione threaded her fingers through his hair and eased his mouth down to taste his lips, diminishing their tension in a slow,  _slow_  kiss. "I think it's time to prove your theory."

"You…?"

His words faded as she vanished her bra with a swift spell. Her taut nipples brushed the hot skin of his chest and a jagged line of electricity coursed her flesh. She gasped and fisted her fingers in his hair. "Sweet Merlin!"

His smile was sly. "I'll teach you my charm if you teach me yours."

Laughter broke from her and her mouth sought his, the delicious friction of their skin deepening the growing need in her flesh. Right,  _so_  right.

He pressed a kiss to the underside of her jaw and she shivered, her body twitching.

"I'll go slow," he murmured, his voice and breath mixing on her skin. "Taste you. Here," his lips brushed the side of her neck as he pushed the tangle of hair from his path, "and here." He kissed her earlobe and she shuddered. "So sensitive there, aren't you, my sweet?" The words burned and her thoughts spun. "Another time –because I want to kiss  _all_  of you now— I will see if I can make you come just from this…"

He teased this tongue over the shell of ear and Hermione moaned. The tension in her flesh arched her against him, and her legs tightened around his strong, lean thigh, gripping it, wanting him to satisfy her pulsing ache.

Severus eased her onto her back and his mouth found the curve of her shoulder. Hermione pushed her trembling fingers through the inky blackness of his cool hair and fought to breathe, to think. Too much. And not enough.

His body brushed against hers, tantalising, hints of it against her aching nipples, against her belly. She needed to find more of him, his skin, his heat, his touch...and a cry pulled from her as he licked a line down her breast bone. "Cheating," she gasped. "Not a kiss."

He looked up at her, his eyes sharp and hot. "Of course, you're right." He pressed a kiss and then another, retracing his path, the heated hint of his tongue tasting her skin.

Damn him, and damn herself for bringing it up, because this was worse. Or better. She didn't know. Couldn't tell. Her thoughts were lost, spinning. The hot, aching coil of need tightened low within her belly, her whole body teetering on the edge. She fought it. Not yet. Gods, not  _yet_.

His sure mouth found her nipple and she  _mewled_. His tongue flicked, a sweet, sweet pleasure-pain almost dizzying her.

"Severus, please…"

He kissed the underside of her breast making her squeak at the loss of his hot mouth on her nipple and the unexpected pleasure of a new kiss. "Not yet, Madam Snape." He pressed a kiss to her stomach, his cool hair brushing her breasts and the shock of it arched her into his touch.

He growled words above her navel and her breath hitched. He was going lower, so much lower than she thought he would…but it was right. Right. And her pulse rioted. Wait, that'd been a question… "What?"

He smiled against her skin and her heart turned over. "Is it me, Hermione?" He looked up, gold and shadows playing over his stark face. "The strength of your reaction when I do this?" He licked the edge of her navel and she bucked under him. His large hands caught her hips and she moaned. "Tell me."

"Yes. You."

He'd reduced her to single words. Did she care? No. Her much-vaunted brain, in that exact moment, was overrated. Not when she could lose herself in pure pleasure with the most perfect man.

"Good," he murmured and his fingers teased at the edge of her knickers. "Should I go lower, Madam Snape? Prove my theory to you? I do  _prefer_  to be thorough."

Hermione wet her dried lips. "Yes." How was he able to talk? To bloody  _tease_  her? How did he have so much  _self control_? She half glared at him. "Please!"

He lifted that damnable eyebrow and had the gall to smirk at her as he pulled her knickers down over her thighs. He threw them over his shoulder with a grin, and resettled between her now open legs. His hands found her hips again. His lips twitched and his mouth dipped so close to her mons his breath stirred her skin. The tip of his tongue touched his upper lip, a quick and tormenting lick. "Does my new wife wish to come, perhaps?"

Oh dear gods and their little demon friends. Any break in the tension of her flesh vanished. No wizard should be allowed to be so delightfully wicked. And he was hers. Completely  _hers_. "Please, Severus…"

He kissed her.

Hermione fisted the sheets and panted. There was only,  _only_ , his lips, his tongue and the gentle, but nerve-straining graze of his teeth. Dear gods… Words babbled from her as Severus Snape completely broke his know-it-all. And she was his.  _His_.

His hands found her thighs and spread her like a feast before him. Hermione moaned. She couldn't hold out against the teasing, rhythmic stroke of his thumbs over the creases of her legs, his hotly talented mouth, and his low, satisfied groans. The vibrations…

"Come for me, my delicious little wife."

His words caught her breath tight in her chest, her body straining on the edge of pleasure. Almost… His lips moved against her, breath teasing… Severus found her clitoris and…flicked.

Hermione arched against him, tearing at the sheets. A strangled cry broke from her as golden fire flashed over her skin, her muscles. Joy. Absolute joy flooded her and she whimpered, her eyes crushed shut and she panted out…until she found herself wrapped in strong, tight arms. She eased down, her wild heart finally,  _finally_  slowing. Sagging against him, she wiped at her face. Her fingers trembled. She'd climaxed so hard she'd  _cried_?

Severus kissed her eyelids and pressed her face to his chest again. More kisses found her hair. "You're so beautiful when you come, Hermione."

Her thoughts ran around and around, caught in bliss. Everything with Severus was so...right. But what if...? What if Ron hadn't pointed out Mrs Weasley's subterfuge? If the Wizengamot hadn't gone completely insane in bringing in their Marriage Law? If Severus had succumbed to that hated snake on the floor of the Shrieking Shack…?

Her throat tightened, her emotions churning. She wouldn't be in this bed. With him. Have her future spreading out in perfect wonder before her... "I might have missed this. Missed  _you_." She looked up at him and brushed still-shaking fingers over his cheek. "It will be love one day soon, won't it, Severus?"

"Oh my lovely girl." His eyes shone and she thought she saw the brightness of his soul there for a moment, golden and pure. "Soon. Very soon."

Hermione let out a long, cleansing breath and wiped at her tears. Slowly, so slowly, her thoughts settled and she found sanity again. Who knew Severus Snape's clever tongue could completely undo her? Her laughter was wry and aimed at herself. "What a good orgasm will do to a girl."

His smile was soft, almost indulgent. "Simply a satisfactory release of tension."

He hadn't laughed at her or derided her for her moment of pleasure induced madness. Oh, she did very much like this new Severus Snape.

"A release of tension?" She lifted an eyebrow. "In that case…" She kissed him, tasting herself on his lips and tongue, light and musky. He groaned, drawing her hard against him and another spark of need flashed through her flesh. She really couldn't get enough of him. "Make love to me."

His forehead dropped to hers, his whole body tensed. "Are you certain?"

"Absolutely."

He accio'd his wand and it slipped between a gap in the damask curtains. Leaning away from her, he dipped the cool tip of his wand to her mons and murmured a contraceptive spell. Silver light flared and a trickle of power seeped into her flesh. He dropped his wand over the edge of the bed. "I may want to fill this house with children, but not today."

And then his mouth found hers again, hotter, more urgent and she met his passion. Gods, this wizard…

His long fingers stroked between her legs, skirting her over-sensitive clitoris, and teased lower. She hissed, freezing at the quick bite of pain as a single finger pushed into her.

He murmured his apologies and his lips found her ear, the sudden rush of pleasure making her forget everything else. "I never thought…" He groaned and Hermione closed her eyes, the ripple of his voice bringing fresh heat, fresh want. "Only last week. You were standing at the sitting room window. In your blue sundress. Arms bare. Morning light making the thin material  _deliciously_  translucent…"

She hadn't seen him that day. But she remembered that moment. Staring down onto parched grass in the square, thinking solely of him. Another hot and forbidden dream had sent her fingers between her legs and the echoes of her release had still teased her… As he touched her now. She sucked in a breath as his finger curled. She clutched at his shoulders. "What is  _that_?"

"What… _this_?" And he stroked her again.

She gasped and curved away and into his touch. And again. She fought to breathe, her body wound tight in mere heartbeats. There… She could practically taste her orgasm.

Severus gave her a dark grin and added a second finger.

"Sweet Circe and her little piglets!" The curse ripped from her.

His rich, warm laughter rolled through her, mixing with... _that_. Whatever it… Gods, that's what it was; he'd found her G-spot in one go... Clever,  _clever_  man. Oh, she was keeping him. She- Another perfect stroke. Hermione stopped breathing. Fuck...

It was enough. Enough to send her flesh, her mind careening into their exquisite release. Fire and light exploded over her senses. She shook, grabbed at him and somewhere, somewhere in the brilliant maelstrom, a tightness. A pain. But not—

Her breath caught, her chest constricting. Gods,  _gods_ , Severus was  _inside_  her.

Hermione stared into his midnight eyes, her lips parted, her fingers shaking against his shoulders. The tension she found in him there, fine, tight tremors straining him. He was fighting everything with everything he had to remain still. For her.

And it was a strange fullness. Not painful, but... She squeezed experimentally and Severus swore.

"Don't…" His mouth pinched. "Don't do that. Please."

She pecked a kiss to his lips and let her hands slip over his shoulders in a nerve-tingling slide down the contours of his back. He arched against her touch, almost feline, and she squeezed around him. He groaned again, something low and almost pained. "That day, in Grimmauld Place?" She kept her voice low and soft, determined to pay him back for the delicious torture of his own words. "You saw me not half an hour after I'd used you to come."

His hips flexed and Hermione gasped. His gaze held her, something dark and fierce. And sure. So sure. "Were you still aroused?"

Oh, he'd found his self-control just as she was losing hers. "Yes." Another thrust and a slide of his hips that danced sparks across her eyes. "I would've…"

"I wanted to slide my fingers into you. And lick them clean."

She could almost see it, feel it. The sudden press of him behind her. Her gasp. The inch of her dress up her bare thighs, and those, long, clever fingers finding her already so wet for him… Gods, she adored this. As he ravished her body  _and_  her mind.

She met his hot, obsidian gaze. "Would you take me there?" She tunnelled her fingers through his hair, dragging him closer. Her lips brushed his ear and her voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "No one would see us, Severus. All alone. So easy, to push my knickers aside—"

He growled and wrapped her his arms, driving himself into her. She arched against him and met his second thrust. "I'll have you just like that." He burned the promise into her skin. "Fuck you till you scream."

"Yes…"

She clung to him now, moving with him, faster, harder. The slip-slide of their hot, sweat-dampened skin, his breath quickening against her ear. Stroking into her. More. Gods…  _Gods_ … She was about to come again and there, on the edge of her flesh, on the edge of her mind. There—

Golden fire exploded over her, taking her body, her mind and… Severus? With her, his thoughts, his magic wrapped around and through hers, blending, intensifying…as  _she_  touched him.  _Pura Concursum_. Holding them, fixing pleasure and power, driving it in wild, overwhelming waves to smash over them. Again. And again.

Dear gods, he,  _they_  were so  _beautiful_ …

She crashed back into her own body and groaning, Severus flopped onto bed beside her. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a string of soft curses. Soft laughter finally found him.

"Satisfied, my wife?"

She laughed and snuggled against his side. He lifted his arm and she wriggled again to press herself against the long, delicious length of his hot, naked body. "Oh yes. That was a lovely introduction to sex."

He opened one, glaring eye. " _Introduction?_ "

Hermione smirked at him, her fingers slipped through the trail of hair that led to his still hard and glistening cock. She didn't feel brave enough to stroke it, not yet. But she would. And soon. "I want to know –and do— everything…"

Severus let out a long, put upon sigh and stroked his hand over his cock. "Should I begin brewing stamina potions, Madam Snape?"

A curl of heat warmed her belly. He'd conditioned her already to that name. Evil man. "If you think it's needed…?"

He growled at her and before she could blink, he had her on her back, her wrists clasped loosely above her head in one strong hand. His cock teased her and she wriggled, grinning up at his scowl.

Her thoughts turned back to the…blending of their release. "Will that happen every time?"

Severus grinned at her, something sharp and hot. He lifted an eyebrow. Merlin, in that minute, he was gorgeous. "Should we find out?"

"An in depth scientific study?"

He teased his fingers across the curve of her hip, then slipping them between their bodies... She squeaked and his low laugh rippled over her skin. "Ah, the joys of a scholarly wife…"

 


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

Severus took her hand, enfolding it in both of his. The warmth, the strength in his hold eased the anxiety tightening her belly. The bond they shared now, how their strength wound thoughts to make them simply...more. It was incredible. Magical. Almost mystical. And yesterday, Hermione would've scoffed at such a thing. But not anymore.

His gold ring pressed against her skin, a line of smooth, welcomed metal.  _Her husband_. She got a lovely little thrill from those two words. And suspected she would for a long time to come.

"Are you ready?"

Hermione's teeth tugged at her bottom lip and his gaze narrowed. Heat suffused her face. She let her lip go and gave him a short nod. "Ready."

They stood before the battered front of 12 Grimmauld Place. The sky was just losing the heavy haze of a late summer sky, the noise and bustle of London somehow smothered in the city heat. Lights flickered in the dirty windowpanes of the Georgian terrace. Almost four months and the fight continued with Kreacher at the removal of decades of grime. Any dirt they banished from the house, the contrary little elf slapped back on whilst they were all asleep.

Hermione had given up trying to clean weeks before. It wasn't her house, after all.

The little elf had fought for his favoured master in the Battle of Hogwarts…but he had little time or courtesy for the last remaining Black. He and Sirius still hated each other. Harry was their buffer. But only just.

"We have to go in." Severus' voice was a low rumble, a touch of a smile lifting his mouth. "I'm surprised they haven't sent out a search party already."

"I'm predicable." She huffed a laugh. "They'll simply assume I've been caught up in reading a book somewhere."

He brought her hand to his lips, pressing his clever mouth to her palm and a spiral of desire caught her breath. Severus smirked at her. "I doubt they want to learn of your exact location, Madam Snape." His mouth twitched. "Or position."

Her blush burned and she couldn't hold his gaze. What she had done. What  _they_  had done… In the protection of his –their— home, she'd felt secure in losing the whole afternoon to the detailed exploration of Severus Snape's rather delectable body. In their bed, several times, in fact. And the shower, little more than half an hour ago. And each time a sharing, a convergence of their magic and selves that bound them ever closer. It was beautiful and delicious.

But in what felt like the outside world, the  _real_  world, she faltered. Would it be obvious how Severus had wrung so many bone-melting orgasms from her?

"Hermione." He waited till she could look up at him again. His thumb stroked her cheek, her jaw. "I will never share anything, never tell anyone anything about you or about us. You are mine, my wife." He pulled in a heavy breath. "This  _law_ ," he bit out the word, "may have pushed us together. But I will never regret it. Never. And I will –and do— take my vows seriously. I will defend my marriage and you with my last breath."

"I know. I know you keep your promises. All of them." She kissed his thumb tip. "I do trust you, Severus. And I do rather enjoy being your wife."

Satisfaction warmed his eyes and his fingers linked through hers. "I know you consider them family, but don't let them browbeat you."

She straightened her shoulders. "What's done cannot be undone."

"We made  _absolutely_  sure."

That smirk was there again. She was learning one thing about her husband of five hours, this new Severus. He had a sense of humour. A dirty one. Which fit with his avid interest –and skill— with sex. It was still a pleasant surprise. She did so look forward to going home again.

Her face was deepening to fuchsia, she was certain. Which probably wasn't a good sign when Severus was knocking at the door. She had to find her control. She'd made the very best decision for herself and for Severus. No contest. Or complaints.

A grumbling Kreacher opened the door. He bowed his head to Severus. The perverse little elf liked the Potions Master, as Sirius Black did not. "Welcome Master Snape." His aged yellowed eyes moved to her. "Miss Mudblood."

"Miss Granger, please, Kreacher. You will not insult my wife."

"No, no, I will not insult the honoured Potions Master's wife." He jerked several nods. "Miss Granger."

"Thank you," Severus murmured and they followed the little creature along the dingy hallway that spat out into the equally grimy kitchen.

The Weasley contingent massed around the table, arguing. Under lamp and candlelight, parchments still covered its length, dozens of names filling each piece. Individual names spread out in rows. There also seemed to be little stacks now, building between the single cards. But strangely none seemed to have been removed. Was the  _Pura Concursum_  working for  _any_  of them?

"Hermione, there you are, dear." Mrs Weasley bustled forward. "And Severus, this is a surprise." She frowned, but then latched onto Hermione and pulled her away. "Ron. Ron has said he's been seeing a Hufflepuff girl for months now. Gilly Something. News to all of us, I'm sure. But their names glowed. Which is more success than we've had all morning  _and_  afternoon. It's little wonder the Ministry is worried when power binding is so rare. Now, speaking of that."

She tapped her wand on a length of battered parchment that held Hermione's full name. It gleamed, but the black ink didn't change colour. She tapped Sirius' name and a hint of iron grey flared and faded.  _Siruis Black_? What were they  _thinking_? She'd have rather faced the Ministry's last resort.

"See, nothing for you. So strange. When earlier, you showed such promise. Bright flares, almost approaching gold." Her gaze darted to George. "For quite a few names, I must say."

_Lies_. Hermione knew it was lies. Her own test of the spell that morning had proven that only Severus brought out the gold in her name. The lack of reaction now was a witness to her bond being fulfilled. Her mouth thinned and anger stirred. How dare this witch think she could manipulate  _her_  future.  _Her_  happiness.

Mrs Weasley huffed out a breath, seemingly unaware that Hermione had yet to speak. "We're going back to the more tried and tested route. So here." She leaned across the table and picked up a stack of parchment. "We have a short-list for you. Sirius has said he's willing…"

Her words died away as she finally realised Hermione was silent. The witch gave her an encouraging smile. One that sparked too hard in her eyes. "Of course, there are  _other_  choices, Hermione dear."

Sirius was the stick. Someone so wholly unsuited that she'd obviously leap at the chance to marry one of the single Weasleys.

"I'm married already." Hermione held up her left hand, the thin gold band and blue jade betrothal ring catching the candlelight.

Molly blinked and her arm fell away. Her gaze darted to Severus and that disapproving frown was back. "Already? Please don't tell me you married  _him_."

Hermione's lips thinned. Severus Snape had been instrumental in winning the war for them and members of the Order still treated him as some form of pariah. Had not even called him to this extraordinary meeting to work out his marital future.

Mrs Weasley glared at her. "Hermione?"

She gave the older woman a short smile. "You told me not to tell you."

"Less of your cheek. Arthur!" Her husband's head bobbed up between George and Percy. Fred had avoided the whole mess with his rather surprising engagement to Luna Lovegood the week before. "Tell her, Arthur. Tell her she can't do this."

"Hello, Hermione." Mr Weasley smiled and his brows drew together. "Do what?"

"She's already married. To him."

"Severus? He was caught by the law too, Molly. It's perfectly legal. I did wonder where you were, Severus. Molly was in charge of the notices. Obviously one got to you." Mr Weasley's smile deepened. "Congratulations, both of you."

"It can be annulled—"

"No. It can't." Hermione held the older woman's gaze, fighting the burn in her cheeks. The bloody woman had deliberately forgotten Severus. Was she truly saving all the women she had control over for her ridiculous amount of sons? Or completely cutting Severus out of their acquaintance for some other, personal reason? She'd failed on both counts. "All terms have been met." And she took a leaf from Severus. "A number of times."

A warm hand closed over her shoulder and she recognised it as the touch of her husband. A hint of their magic swirled between them. His voice was cool, smooth and holding that derisive edge that did strange things to insides. "This visit is a courtesy. A notice that we be taken off the lists." He paused and his words became quiet and hard. "Though I doubt my name was there to begin with, was it Molly?"

"I knew you'd find your own witch. You always come out...well." Mrs Weasley's face had mottled red, showing were Ron got his bluster from. She leant forward, drawing herself away from her husband's hearing. Her voice was little more than a hiss. "What you are, what you've done." She shook her head. "Albus' 'greater good' never justified how you treated  _my_  children. I wanted no one I knew with you."

Severus didn't try to justify how he'd behaved in the past, the man he'd been, and Hermione wouldn't want him too. He had fought the war on both sides and nearly died from it. She pulled her thoughts away from almost losing him before she had a chance to know him...

Was it also the Prince legacy? Severus was a wealthy man, now. And the Weasley's were still rebuilding the Burrow, living off Sirius' goodwill in the meantime. Mrs Weasley's action at excluding Severus was...petty. Childish. It seemed, like Ron, his mother couldn't get go of a grudge. Hermione pitied her.

Mrs Weasley drew back and her lips thinned. She fired her wand at the table. The little piece of parchment holding Hermione's name scorched and fell to ashes. "Enjoy the bed you've chosen."

Hermione couldn't stop her smirk. "I have. I do."

"Mione, really…" George winced and cast a furtive glance behind her to Severus. He held up his hands and his voice took on a Ron-level of whine. "Think about what you're saying… Please. I'm an impressionable, unmarried boy." He wiped his eyes free of false tears. "I shouldn't have to hear these things. I'm too young to be corrupted—"

"George!" his mother snapped. She'd turned to the sink and was clattering pans. She waved one at him.

Her son pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and slumped into his chair. "And you only know my name now, Mother, because I lack a…a  _wife_." He gave a half-strangled sob.

Hermione bit back a grin and with his mother's back returned to angry pan washing, George winked at her. "Thank you." She mouthed the words to him, grateful for the distraction before Mrs Weasley went into full meltdown.

It was time to get of out the oppressive house. She just had to collect her things –everything she owned was stored in her school trunk in her room— and happily head back to Harrogate. The truth of her marriage would soon spread through the Order with no further help from her.

"I have to collect my things," she murmured to Severus.

Mrs Weasley struck, closing the space between them and pulling Hermione back with a soapy hand. "If you think you're going into that girl's bedroom,  _Severus Snape_ —"

"Molly…" Arthur sighed. He gave them both an apologetic smile. "Hermione has made her decision."

"She has? Excellent! Should we set a date?" Sirius stood in the kitchen doorway, a sharp grin cutting his face.

Hermione closed her eyes and held down a groan. Not Sirius. Not now.

Harry stood just behind him. He wasn't smiling. Had he realised whom she'd married? Or like her, was he horrified at the idea of his best friend being tied to his obnoxious godfather?

And how they were going to marry him off, she had no idea. It irritated her that they had thought so little of  _her_  to pair her with him, even as an incentive to find someone else. Something almost unforgiveable.

She pulled herself free of Molly's firm grip. Severus held out his hand and she took it. The strength of him bled into her, skin against skin, their magic spiralling in, making them stronger still. She smiled and let her head fall against his arm. It really was an incredible bond.

"Him?" Sirius barked a laugh, whilst Harry simply stared at her. The older wizard planted himself at the table and shifted through a pile of names, frowning and discarding them. "How did you put them up to his joke, George?"

"Hermione is my wife, Black. It's not a joke." Severus' calm tone belied the tension that Hermione felt in his frame. He might be striving to be a new man, but there was too much bad blood between the two wizards to let it easily wash away.

"Saw your chance with the law to fu—"

Severus lunged, stabbing his wand at Sirius' throat. It cut the wizard off. "She is my  _wife_. She will be treated with respect. Any more of your…language and I am within my rights to demand a duel." Severus lifted his eyebrow. Silence shrouded the kitchen, no one daring to breathe, fearful of the cold rage in the dark wizard's voice. "Do you fancy your chances when there's only you? Alone. Or should we call for  _Lupin_  to hold your hand?"

Sirius swallowed and used his finger to ease the wand back. His grey eyes fixed on Severus and hatred glinted there. "The aurors should be informed. Coercion is  _still_  illegal."

"I'll do that now," Mrs Weasley declared, the silvered swirl of her patronus already forming.

"You'll do no such thing!" Hermione cast a  _finite_  at the cloud and it burst apart. "How dare you?"

She slipped her hand back into Severus' and power surged between them. Her hair sparked, the familiar metallic burn shrouding her, proof of magic bursting beyond her control. Severus brought her hand to his lips and tempered the wild rush. His dark eyes held her, hot and brimming with vitailty. He was utterly beautiful. She grinned at him.

They were both caught in a blistering arc of power. Their trained flesh in a sharp fighting stance, wands out, magic leashed but fierce and their fingers laced. Their bond. A perfect convergence of their souls. It couldn't be denied.

She knew it then. With Severus at her side, she  _was_  invincible.

George's jaw dropped. "What is  _that_?"

Hermione lifted her chin, proud, sure. "Our bond. Our  _golden_   _Pura Concursum_  bond."

Molly fell into a chair and simply stared. Sirius glared but wisely said nothing.

"Hermione?"

She looked to Harry and softened her smile. "Your opinion?"

His gaze moved between them, something almost thoughtful in his eyes. Her friend had calmed after the war. Not having the stain of Voldemort in his soul had lifted a great weight from him. "You're happy, aren't you?"

She gave a sharp nod. "Very."

Harry shrugged. "Good luck." He slid a wry glance to Severus. "You'll need it, sir."

"Harry…" Hermione all but growled at him.

Severus' mouth twitched and he gave a graceful incline of his head. "Thank you for the warning, Mr Potter. I shall heed it."

Hermione pursed her lips, wanting to be angry at her friend and...and her husband. But they were being cordial. It untwisted a knot she didn't know she had deep in her flesh. "I'll be in touch. Soon. I promise." She twitched a smile to Mr Weasley and Percy and ignored the other two people in the kitchen. "Goodbye."

Severus ushered her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. She pushed the door shut with a distinct click. Sagging back against the dark wood, she closed her eyes.

She jumped as Severus stroked her cheek. A smile tugged at his mouth and she threw herself into his arms, relishing his hold. His scent wrapped around her, parchment and fresh sweet grass, mixed with richer herbs. Right. Him.  _Home_. "That could have been better."

He pressed a kiss to her wild hair. "It went very well. No one was hexed and our most ferocious detractors have been silenced." His hand slipped to the curve of her backside and she wriggled against him, unafraid to giggle. He had obviously put the unpleasantness in the kitchen behind him. She should too.

His voice turned soft, sure and deliciously wicked. "I'd ask you re-enact your fantasy of me in your bed, madam, but I want you in  _mine_."

She smirked up him. "Your bed or your fantasy?"

He dropped a kiss on her lips. "Both, lovely girl."

Hermione stepped back from him and flicked her wand. Her belongings swirled in the air, whipping up from shelves, the mantelpiece from the under the bed to parade into her trunk. It snapped shut with a loud thunk, locked itself and she shrunk it to the size of her palm.

Severus took it and secreted it about his person. He lifted an eyebrow.

She smiled at him and her chest lifted, lightened.

He was her future. As she was his. It was only hours, but everything about them being together was…true. They hadn't said they loved each other. But they would. And soon. When they were ready and it would fall in the perfect moment. She accepted it. And she could hardly believe that she had such belief, but it wasn't blind. Magic was with them. And as that day had shown, magic knew everything…

"Overthinking?"

"Considering…" Hermione gave him an artfully innocent look from under her lashes. Whilst they were still in that awful house, there was one fantasy she  _knew_  he'd like. "Y'know, Severus I still have books littering the sitting room…"

They were out of her bedroom in a heartbeat.

 


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

"Mione, you have to see this!" Ron burst into the sitting room, waving a copy of that night's paper. "Gilly gave me the  _Evening Prophet._  She near cracked a rib laughing so hard. You have to see. The beetle has  _completely_  lost it!"

He lurched to a stop, rocking back on his heels. "What…?"

Snape had his hand on his girlfriend's… _ex_ -girlfriend's hip. And seemed to be stroking her with long spidery fingers. Ron shuddered. Wait, why was her skirt all creased?

"Ron have you  _heard_  of knocking?" Mione's face was bright pink, her throat and lower —not that he was looking, he had a fiancée now— was just as flushed. She frowned at him. "What do you want?"

"Only you are ever in here. Why should I knock?" Ron frowned. He waved the paper again. "It says you're married to  _him_." He jerked his chin to Snape. "That's wrong, isn't, Mione? I mean…"

She took Snape's corpse white hand in hers and something flared between them. For a second, they bloody  _glowed_. Ron blinked his mouth falling open. What…?

Snape sneered at him. Foul bat. "Please close you mouth, Mr Weasley. I can see the remains of your supper."

Ron's teeth snapped together. He stared. No. It  _wasn't_  Rita Skeeter having a breakdown? "It's  _true_?"

His ex-girlfriend smirked at him and pulled her greasy husband –husband!— towards the door. "You know, Ron, you were completely wrong about me. I do  _very much_  like that sort of thing."

And Snape's eyes were fucking  _smug_ …

The door clicked behind him and alone in the sitting room, Ron caught his hand in his hair. What in Merlin's name had just happened? His nose twitched. What was that smell? It was familiar…

Fuck.  _Fuck_.

No. No. Absolutely no. They hadn't been— Hermione  _wouldn't_. She didn't do that sort of thing. She was just having a laugh. He'd know if she  _did_  like it. She would've let him… And she certainly wouldn't let the Great Greasy Git get his…his,  _his_  anywhere near her. No. It was a marriage of convenience. Nothing else. Nothing.

Ah  _shit_. He wiped his fingers across his eyes.

_Severus Snape_  had fucked Hermione Granger in the sitting room. And she'd bloody loved it.

Ron fell into the nearest chair. The paper fluttered to the floor and he dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. Hard. Trying to unthink  _everything_.

He wondered how good his new fiancée was with memory charms…

 


End file.
